Heartbeat
by Lavande
Summary: My very own attempt at "female trouble": What if the old lady had been perfectly alright? I know, we had this kind... I just like it.


This is dedicated to Joy, who doesn't know me at all, but her story 'Dying In The Street' inspired me to write this one. Thanks.

^_^

**"So what?**** It would be better for me not to have gotten here in time and found you dead? I'd then have to live with the guilt that I didn't tell you how I felt and wonder if it could have made the difference? I got a new question for you to ponder. Am I worth living for? Would you do it for me? Am I enough?" she pled.**

**The words pounced around in his emotionally exhausted brain. He tried to struggle against her again; "I just want it to stop. I just want the pain to stop…"**

**'Dying In The Street' by Joy. Go read ^_^**

Heartbeat

by Lavande

 About seven hours ago her world had shattered under the impact of two simple words.

 Suicidal tendencies.

 When the meaning had come upon her, she had felt it crashing into her very being, freezing her soul before smashing it apart, leaving nothing but shards with edges so sharp they cut into her every thought, leaving her screaming and bleeding inside.

 Bleeding… About seven hours ago, blood on her hands had made her cry out in agony.

 About seven hours ago, her heart had stopped.

***

~~~Flashback~~~

 _Suicidal tendencies.__Logan__! But I didn't see it! I saw nothing of that!_ Max brought her bike to a screeching halt in front of the Foggle Towers. It fell to one side as she jumped off, and there would be scratches at least, but she didn't care. All she cared about right now was several floors upwards, hopefully sitting at his computer and happily hacking his way through various government files. Her heart raced with a speed that came not from physical activity but from sheer panic, while at the same time it felt like a lump of ice inside her chest. A feeling she had only experienced once before, and had she thought about it she would have doubted that its grip had been that firm back then. 

 The young woman practically flew through the building's doors and up the stairs, not paying attention to the surprised glances from some elderly lady halfway up. _Please, let me be in time, please, please…_ As she arrived at Logan's apartment, she hammered against the door.

 "_Logan__! Open up!"_

 When there was no response within a second, Max let go of the civilized behaviour she had acquired over the last few years. Instead, she became an X5 in action. With a single violent kick the door flew open, giving her access to the place that had become so familiar to her she almost regarded it as a home. Almost.

 "_Logan__!_ Are you here?" she yelled, entering the apartment without further hesitation. She scanned the various rooms before finally heading for the last one. No sign of the man that made her feel so comfortable around here. Without him, the apartment was just a place like any other. By now, cold fear for him had brought her to the verge of tears.

 "Logan?" she called once again, her voice pleading, her mind praying to whatever god there might be that her feeling was wrong, that those _suicidal tendencies_ were just the fears of the future every human developed at some time in their life, and that his smile when she had said it would be alright had been just that: a smile. That it hadn't been a silent goodbye when he sent her away.

 Max reached the room – and stopped cold in the doorframe. There he was, sitting in his wheelchair, slumped over his computer desk, the left hand still on the keys, the other in his lap where she couldn't see it. It was a familiar sight. How often had she found him like that, when he had passed out from exhaustion after hours of research, falling asleep right in front of his computer… Still she felt uneasy.

 "Logan?" she asked hesitantly. When there was no reaction, she took a few steps to close the gap between them. "Logan?"

 She knew the second she touched him. She didn't need to see the blood that had flown into the keyboard and then started soaking his sleeve, or the gun in his limp right hand. She could tell from the way the pain exploded inside her, tearing her apart, as she touched his neck, felt the cold dampness of his skin. Max took in a deep, ragged breath. "No…" she whispered. "Please, no…" With a shaking hand, she reached out for Logan's lifeless body, lightly touching his face, ignoring the nasty wound she knew would be on the other side of his head as she caressed his cheek, then moved her hand down towards his still chest – and almost jumped back in shock as she reached the artery at the side of his throat. Faint, almost unnoticeable, she felt a weak pulse underneath her fingers. _Logan__!_

 With high speed Max reached for the phone and hammered onto the keys, dialing the emergency number. While she told the ambulance where to go, she never let the unconscious man out of her eyes. Even though he had not yet crossed the fine line that separated the living from the dead, he couldn't be very far from it. Logan Cale, Seattle's Eyes Only, was dying, his life just ebbing away, she knew it, but she would be damned if she would let that happen. She hadn't made all the effort saving him from assassins, terrorists, medical complications and some bad guy's stupid minions just to lose him to his own desperation. The young woman didn't care about the possibilities of Lydecker tracking her through his surveillance of hospitals throughout the city, that if he found her he would either try to take her back to Manticore or kill her right away. It didn't matter. She felt like she had already died.

Author's Note: This is the first of about three parts. I'll post the others if anybody thinks this is worth reading. ^_^


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